


Under the Moonlight

by we_are_the_same



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non Famous, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, HL Summer Exchange 2019, M/M, Mallorca, Mutual Pining, Nature, No Smut, Pining, Real Feelings, Student Louis, Tumblr Friendship, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, World Travel, minimal angst, scenery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-03-13 16:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18944413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_are_the_same/pseuds/we_are_the_same
Summary: Harry and Louis have been friends online for years. They've never met despite living only a few hours from one another. One fateful summer a silly little lie, a family vacation and an accidental meet up lead to a week of fake dating on Mallorca. All in all, a holiday Louis won't easily forget.





	Under the Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LarryLoser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarryLoser/gifts).



> Written for the HLSummerExchange2019, for [LarryLoser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryloser). I really enjoyed this prompt, I hope I did it justice and that you'll enjoy this fic! Thank you for sending it in! And thank you to the mods for this wonderful exchange, I've loved participating in it.
> 
> As always, thanks to Emmi, Pam and Caroline for being so supportive. Love you, I don't know what I'd do without you to motivate me!

It’s been a while since Louis has been to see his family. As much as he’d promised himself (and his siblings) that he’d take every available opportunity to come back and visit, reality had had him spending most of his time at uni. Either studying, or spending time with his friends, not really eager to drive back up to his family. It wasn’t that he didn’t miss them, of course he did, but he was adjusting, settling into life as an adult.

Of sorts, anyway.

But he’s back now, for a weekend, and then it’s only three more weeks of the second semester until Louis is done with his first year of uni. It’s hard to believe that time can go by so fast. He still remembers the nerves, the panic of trading everything familiar for something he wasn’t sure he could do. Louis had never really been the scholastic type, but with most of his friends attending uni and with no prospective job that really held his interest it had seemed like the smart thing to do.

He’s learned that he actually quite likes studying now. Now that it’s subjects that interest him, now that teachers aren’t so on his case - they don’t care too much if he isn’t in class, as long as he studies up on the material and passes his tests - now that they don’t know his name and his reputation, it’s a lot easier to just pay attention. It also helps that he isn’t surrounded by a group of his friends that have always known him as the class clown. He only really sees most of them during lunch, and as much as they had promised not to at the start of the year, they had already begun to drift apart.

But he’s also met new friends. Has found himself growing rather fond of his roommate, Niall, as well as getting along with the guy Niall’s known since he was young (and who Louis had first not really seen fitting into his group of friends). But Liam, for as studious as he had appeared to be at the start, is actually a right laugh once you get to know him. 

With most of his friends (new and old) studying up for the last of their exams, Louis had taken advantage of the fact that he was all but done by taking the train up to Doncaster, and spending some quality time with his grandparents and his youngest siblings. 

Louis had grown up in a full house, and sometimes he’d felt like the noise was too much, but now, used to a dorm room that was alive at all times of the day (and night), the loudness doesn’t bother him so much anymore. It’s nice, actually. To hear his youngest siblings, the tiny twins, babbling, or on occasion crying. To hear Pheebs and Daisy arguing one minute and getting along like a house on fire the next. It’s cozy, and he reminds himself that he really should make more of an effort to come and see them next year.

He’s sat on the sofa with a cup of tea, absently texting when Phoebe suddenly approaches, nearly startling him into dropping his phone when she suddenly leans in, asks “oh, who’s that then?”

 _That_ , is Harry.

Louis’ .. secret, for lack of a better word. 

“Um.” He says eloquently, staring at the funny picture Harry’s just sent him, him in some ridiculous flamingo shirt that he’s asking Louis’ opinion on (Louis is sort of shit at giving Harry his opinion on these things because he’s of the firm belief that Harry looks great in anything). “Harry?”

“Harry.” Phoebe says it in a way that makes Louis want to blush, and he obediently scoots over when she nudges him with her hip. Even if he does give her a little poke with his toes when she’s sat down. “And who is this Harry then, Lou?”

Louis bites his lip. Harry’s been - well, he’s been in his life a lot longer than he’d feel comfortable admitting to his family. He’s known him for almost four years now, since he was fifteen and completely obsessed with The Script. He’d learned of Tumblr from one of his friends at school and it had been a fun place for him to keep up with his favorite band. And to meet other people who liked them as much as he did. 

That’s how he’d met Harry, and although they had just followed one another at first, it had developed into messaging each other on Tumblr, and eventually trading phone numbers. They called each other every now and then, but messaged each other pretty much every day, talking about a lot more than just their favorite musicians. Louis had shared some of his most personal thoughts and fears with Harry, had sent him drunk rambling voice messages and selfies before he went on dates. He’d helped him through some of the toughest times in his life, just by being there.

Honestly, Harry was probably one of his best friends. But he’d never told his siblings about him. Or anyone in his family, really. Both because he knew they wouldn’t be too happy with him sharing so much of himself with a stranger (he wasn’t stupid, he knew of Catfish and all, but he’d seen enough pictures and videos of Harry to be sure that that wasn’t the case here, but his grandparents surely won’t see it that way), and also…

He _likes_ having Harry as his secret. In a family as big as Louis’, privacy was sometimes something that was hard to come by. Louis liked having something that was just _his_. He knows that if he had told his family about Harry they would’ve made him come round, and everyone would’ve liked him, and..he just liked that he was _Louis’_. 

“He’s a friend. I, um, met him in uni.” The lie is out before he can really contemplate it much further, and he shoots her a guilty look, knowing she’s always been quick to pick up on when he isn’t telling the truth. It’s no different this time. Her eyebrow shoots up and Louis knows he’s going to get an earful now. He might be nineteen, seven years older than her, but that has never seemed to hold her back.

Except - “A _friend_ , huh?”

Louis blinks at her. Phoebe laughs, prodding his cheek with her finger. “You should see your face. A _friend_ , come off it. You think I’m that stupid that I don’t recognize when you have a big, fat crush? I’m not a baby anymore. I know about crushes. Dais is completely in love with this one guy in school. You look just the same way.” She stares at him, her face softening just before she cuddles into him. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

Louis ignores the way his heart is hammering in his chest, just bites his lip and nods. It’s not a lie. Harry does, he’s easily one of the best people Louis has ever met. He’s sweet and charming and funny, and, if he’s honest, also exactly Louis’ type. Curly hair, green eyes, _dimples_. He tries not to think about that too much, because he wouldn’t ever want to do anything to risk their friendship, but he’s woken up from a dream once or twice, panting and with Harry’s name still on his lips. It’s those memories that cause him to blush now, his sister giggling softly at the sight. “Harry,” she repeats, staring at Louis’ phone, that’s still showing the picture he’s just sent him. “I like him. When are we gonna meet him?”

Louis glances up at her. “Never,” he says, mainly just to be contrary. 

Phoebe makes a face at him. “Don’t let nana hear it. You know she wouldn’t like you having a boyfriend unless she’s been able to veto him. She won’t let me or Dais have a boyfriend _at all_ , she’s not going to let you date someone and not have you bring him round for tea.” She gets up from the couch, pokes her finger in the middle of his chest. “I’ll keep your secret. But you owe me.”

*

Louis knows that he should probably correct Phoebe on her assumption, but it’s easy to forget to, when the subject isn’t brought up again. Plus, he has to admit, if only to himself, he had rather liked hearing someone refer to Harry as his boyfriend. And it’s not like he’ll ever actually bring him round. Harry’s never asked to meet his family, and if he did, Louis would be able to tell Phoebe the truth then. 

So he allows her to believe that Harry is his boyfriend, because it makes him happy. And it makes _her_ happy too. She keeps sending him these lovely, slightly cheeky smiles, as though she just adores being the only one let in on a ‘secret’. It drives Daisy mad, and it’s just all around too easy to let her believe what she wants. Honestly, even if he did tell her, he doesn’t think she’ll believe him.

All in all, it’s been a really nice weekend, he’s had a chance to catch up with his grandparents, who are glad for his help with the youngest twins. They’re getting on a bit in age, not that you’d notice that at first glance, but his nana confides in him that she’s hoping he’ll come home a bit more often next year. It makes him feel a little bit guilty inside, until he sees the smile on her face that tells him that’s exactly what she’d hoped to achieve. “Nan!” He accuses her, laughing when she gives him her best innocent expression. “What is it?”

“We’d really like you to come on holiday with us this year.” It’s been a few years since he’s gone on holiday with his family, opting instead to stay home or go someplace with his mates. But being home, he’s realized just how much he’s missed them, missed in general, the tiny twins growing up so fast that he’s missed out on a bunch of milestones by now. “It’d be good to have an extra hand, now that Lottie’s said she’s going to Egypt with her boyfriend. Not that it’ll just be babysitting, mind. We’re still going to make sure you’ll have fun too.”

Louis smiles, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Her reassurance is sweet, if unnecessary. “I’d love to.” He knows it’ll be fun, he gets an all expenses paid trip for a week, to somewhere warm and sunny, and he gets to spend more time with his family. As much as he likes a good party, Louis is a homebody at heart, would do anything for the people he loves. And there’s no one he loves quite as much like his family. 

Not even Harry, even though he comes close. He texts him about it, of course. First chance he gets, he tells him that he won’t be partying it up this year, but that he’ll be on babysitting duty. Harry’s reply is quick, as it usually is (Louis really shouldn’t feel so pleased that Harry is always so quick to reply to him).

_Harry: you love it! Don’t even pretend that you aren’t the most domestic 19 year old I’ve ever met_

_Louis: you’re one to talk_

_Harry: actually, I’m going on holiday with my mates this year_

_Louis: Anne and Gemma let you?_

_Harry: oy. I’m 17._

_Louis: you’re a baby. You’re not even allowed to drink_

_Harry: ..that never stopped anyone_

_Louis: cheeky._

_Harry: you love me cheeky_

_Louis: I do._

_Harry: 😍_

_Louis: weirdo_

_Harry: I love you too._

*

The last three weeks of the semester go by fast, and before Louis knows it he’s back in Doncaster, his first year of uni behind him. His grandparents have arranged for the whole family to spend a week in Mallorca, and while Louis is sort of dreading the flight (the smaller twins have never been on a plane before, and even if they won’t start crying, it’s going to be impossible to keep them from wanting to crawl around), he is absolutely looking forward to spending a bit of time with his family, as well as getting the chance to soak up some sun. 

Harry, coincidentally, is off on holiday most of the same week Louis is, which is great, because it means that Louis won’t have to feel guilty about not being glued to his phone all of the day. He’ll miss him though, promises to send him a postcard, though he has a feeling he’ll probably forget. A week goes by in a flash, at least when you’re on holiday. Somehow it’s never the same when you’re in class. 

Despite his worries, the flight actually goes smoothly, and so does the transfer to their hotel. It’s a beautiful place, on the beach, with a couple of pools and a team of employees that’ll host activities for kids of all ages. Louis feels the stress of uni just melt off of him the moment he steps out of the bus, his skin greedily soaking up the sun. 

They’ve got to wait a bit before they can enter their room, but with the weather as great as it is, it’s hardly a chore to wait by the pool, especially when all drinks are included on this trip. Honestly, Louis thinks, as he makes himself comfortable on a lounge chair, there’s no need to even venture off the hotel grounds. He’d just as happily spend an entire week right here.

*

Of course, even with the sun and the pool and the beach right nearby, they do eventually go for an excursion. They being Louis, Phoebe, and his grandfather. His grandmother had opted to stay behind with the toddlers, and Daisy had volunteered to help her, as she wasn’t too interested in visiting the Caves of Drach. Louis understands her reasoning, though he figures it’s more to do with that cute Irish boy that’s staying at the hotel with his parents. So much for the huge crush she had on this guy in school, he thinks, but it’s sort of cute, the way she blushes when she’s around him. 

They’re brought to a bus stop by someone from the hotel, where they’ll meet other tourists from other hotels, before being driven towards the cave. Louis takes a few snaps of the scenery, one of Phoebe who looks just beautiful in her yellow sundress and massive shades. A few more people gather around them, ready for the bus to arrive, but Louis doesn’t pay much attention to them, at least not until-

“Hey!” Phoebe has appeared rather suddenly at his side, her elbow an unwelcome presence in his side. “Isn’t that your boyfriend?”

A few things happen, in quick succession.

First, Louis says “What.”

Then he automatically says, “No.”

Then Phoebe yells “Harry!”

Louis might say ‘no’ again. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s sure Phoebe must be mistaken or because he _wants_ her to be, but in excruciating slow motion, or that’s how it feels, a boy turns around, curious eyes (that Louis knows from experience are green, even if he’s too far away to see) landing on Phoebe, who is grinning from ear to ear.

“I knew it!” She yells, giving Louis a shove. “Hi Harry! Gramps! Come meet Harry!”

(Louis is too slow to stop her, too slow to reach out and _clamp a hand over her mouth and tell her to stop talking **now**_ )

“I’m sorry-” Harry starts, looking sort of bewildered, but Phoebe is having none of it, blind to the apparent awkwardness of the situation. She just moves towards him, takes Harry’s hand and drags him over to where Louis is standing, his grandfather at his side. 

“Gramps, this is Harry. Louis’ boyfriend. Harry, this is my grandpa. I’m Phoebe. You know Lou, of course.” 

She giggles. She _giggles_ and Louis thinks that it’s sort of fitting how that’s the soundtrack to his most embarrassing experience. 

Because Phoebe just called Harry Louis’ boyfriend. To his face. Any second now, Harry will ask where she’s got that idea from, and then Louis is going to lose his best friend, before he’s even had the chance to savor the fact that - holy shit he’s actually _here_ and they’re meeting in real life.

It seems like that fact hits them simultaneously, because for a moment or so, they’re just staring at each other, wide eyed.

And then Harry laughs, and scoops him up into a hug, his hand at the small of his back in a way that should feel too intimate. “Hi,” he says softly, and softer, just for Louis, “boyfriend?”

Louis hugs him back, his tongue not working but he hopes that his tight embrace says _please, for the love of God, play along_. Or maybe it says _if you’re going to come clean, make it quick_. He’s not sure. He’s not sure about much except that Harry smells _incredible_. “Hi,” he finally manages, but it’s more to Harry’s shoulder than anything else.

“Hi Lou.” Louis about melts at the sound of his voice, sounding so much better than through his phone, and he’s overwhelmed by that alone, even more so by the fact that Harry is holding him, apparently having no intention of letting go. 

Not until a soft but insistent cough startles them both, and they break apart, and suddenly Louis is looking anywhere but at Harry. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry,” Louis’ grandfather says, his eyes twinkling though he arches an eyebrow as he looks at Louis. “I wasn’t aware you were dating anyone.”

Louis blushes, but Harry saves him, sounding far more smooth than Louis could hope to be in this moment. “It’s recent.” He says, looking at Louis, and Louis is so grateful for his save that he could kiss him. 

They’re being shepherded onto the bus soon after that, and of course Louis is sitting next to Harry, who seems to be alone. His grandpa and Pheebs are right behind them though, so there’s not much of a chance to explain just why his younger sister seemed to think Harry and Louis were dating. Harry just arches his eyebrow at him, and Louis makes what he hopes is an apologetic face.

The bus ride is the most uncomfortable experience of Louis’ life, because they have to answer questions that neither of them know the answer to, seeing as how they’re not actually a real life couple. Louis wonders, a few times, why neither of them admits to the truth, as it should be easier than hoping that neither one of them says something that can raise red flags. But Harry seems content to play along - though Louis knows that he’ll be wanting an explanation later - and Louis is too flustered and embarrassed to admit the truth, at least in front of Harry. 

So they make their way through a story, and despite how awkward it feels, neither his grandfather nor Phoebe seems to realize that anything is amiss.

*

It’s cold in the Caves of Drach, which Louis really should’ve expected but somehow didn’t, and of course Harry lends him a jacket, which makes Phoebe squeal and as much as Louis doesn’t want to admit it, he sort of wants to squeal too. Because the jacket smells like Harry and he’s comfortable and warm and Louis feels honest to God butterflies in his stomach.

It’s also absolutely beautiful though, and for a moment he’s almost able to forget about this whole situation, until Harry gently grabs his elbow and leads him away from the crowd. They fall just a few paces behind everyone else, and even though it’s dark Louis knows he’s arching an eyebrow at him. “So, um, what was that all about?” He asks softly, and Louis hopes that Harry can’t tell that he’s blushing.

“I, um.” He starts, eloquently.

“Is there any reason your sister thinks I’m your boyfriend?” He sounds gentle, is the thing, and Louis’ heart is filled with fondness. It’s not that he expected Harry to recoil from him in disgust, to yell at him and embarrass him in front of his family, but it’s still an incredibly awkward situation to put him in and Louis really should apologize.

“I’m sorry.” It sounds a bit weak, but Harry can tell that he’s earnest, and the fingers around his elbow move to gently brush over his wrist. Louis stays quiet for a moment, chancing a glance at the group of tourists that are thankfully out of earshot, though he knows they only have a few moments before they’ll have to join them again. “I can tell her it was all a mistake.” Which would’ve been a lot easier if they hadn’t just concocted a whole story on the bus, but that wasn’t Harry’s problem. 

Harry hums softly. “She seemed excited.” Is all he says.

Louis nods. “She likes seeing me happy. It’s been a while since I dated anyone. Not, um, not that we’re actually dating. I know that. Obviously.” He mentally curses at himself. He never should’ve allowed her to believe that they were a couple. He should’ve known better. Things have a tendency to fall apart for him, which is why he’d been so desperate to keep Harry in his life. To keep him a secret, because the less people that were involved in their friendship, the less variables there were that could cause something to go wrong. He wants to explain everything to Harry, but he knows that they won’t have time right now. “Can I, I want to explain to you, but, can I meet you somewhere, tonight maybe?” He isn’t sure where Harry’s staying, but whatever he has to do, he’ll figure out a way to meet up with him. 

There’s a brief pause before Harry nods. “So for now?”

Louis winces. “Would you mind?” _Of course_ , he berates himself, _of course Harry will mind_. 

But Harry just shrugs. He glances past Louis, who can feel his heart sink until he hears Phoebe’s voice, telling them to stop sneaking off and hurry up. Her voice is laced with innuendo, and Louis firmly tells himself that that’s why he’s blushing when Harry casually takes his hand and pulls him back to the others.

Harry doesn’t let go of his hand except when he’s photographing the stalactites and stalagmites, and when they’re ushered into a seating area, in front of a gorgeous looking underground lake, he wraps an arm around his shoulder. Louis ignores the urge to hide, especially when Phoebe insists that she needs a picture, weakly tries to tell her that they don’t have to, but Harry’s already pasted on a smile. So Louis smiles at his sister as well, allows her to take a picture. 

“Cute,” she remarks, and Harry asks to see, nods when he sees the picture. 

“Definitely,” he agrees, “I’m gonna need you to send that to me.”

Phoebe about melts, and Louis has to admit he’s feeling a little unsteady himself. He knows Harry’s just playing the part, but when Phoebe insists on another picture he seems happy to oblige. Louis swallows back another feeble protest, though his smile wavers a little when he feels lips pressed to his cheek just before the flash goes off.

Thankfully, before he can feel too embarrassed or excited at the brief kiss, there’s a crackle of static through a speaker, before a calm voice tells them to please put away cameras and phones for the concert that’s about to begin.

Despite the fact that Louis knew the tour of the cave came with a brief concert, he’s still gasping when the first boats float towards the middle of the lake, and he has to swallow a lump in his throat when soft violin music drifts towards them. It’s eerie and magical, the music reverberating through the cave, the lights dancing on the water, and Harry’s arm still around his shoulder. His fingers brush over Louis’ upper arm, and he swears he can feel the heat even through the material of the jacket and the shirt he’s wearing underneath. 

Harry’s a really good actor, he thinks, as a few minutes in he shifts to rest his head on Louis’ shoulder. Despite the fact that he’s a bit taller than Louis, he seems comfortable, and Louis breathes in shakily before resting his cheek against Harry’s curls.

After a beautiful musical experience, the orchestra is rewarded with a thunderous applause, and while the boats with the musicians float away, empty ones are being moored at the small pier, and people are invited to step into them for a short boat ride. There’s also the option of walking, but neither Louis, nor Harry or his family, wants to pass up this opportunity. 

Harry, a true gentleman, helps Phoebe and Louis’ grandfather into the boat, holding their hand and making sure they’re seated before he turns to Louis and holds out his hand for him to take. Louis sits down next to him and tries not to read too much into it that Harry doesn’t let go of his hand all throughout the short boat ride along Lake Martel.

Because this doesn’t mean anything. This is just Harry playing along, like Louis had asked him to.

*

After a wonderful day, the bus ride back to the station is relatively quiet, conversations, if they happen, only happening in muted voices. Louis feels sort of worn, tired but not, too confused to stop his mind from racing. 

During another moment when it was just the two of them, they had figured out that their hotels were in fact quite close to one another, and they’ve agreed to meet up on the beach at night, to talk. Louis is sort of nervous, but he tries to keep faith that even if Harry is adamant that they ‘break up’ he will forgive him and agree to stay his friend. Their four year friendship had to be important enough that he wouldn’t hate Louis for something like this. Unless Harry was an Oscar-winning actor, he couldn’t have too much to fear, could he? 

When they get off the bus, it’s all smiles and hugs, _it’s-been-so-nice-to-meet-you_ ’s and _see-you-later_ ’s that Harry agrees to with a smile that makes Louis’ stomach squirm. He gets a hug, a whispered “I’ll see you tonight” that he can only nod to, before Harry brushes a kiss against the corner of his mouth. Louis must look stunned, because he winks, then waves, as he heads back towards another bus that will take him back to his own hotel.

Louis can’t really force himself to eat something while they’re at dinner, which makes it easy when he excuses himself to go to his hotel room early. His grandparents seem to think he’s not feeling too well, which he is glad to take advantage of. And with him being the only one in this room - his grandparents are sharing with the tiny twins and Phoebe and Daisy are in a room of their own, just adjacent his own - all he has to do is wait until they’ve retired before he can sneak out.

The wait, though, that’s torture. Usually, when he’s bored, Louis texts Harry, but this time he feels too awkward to, so despite the fact that he picks up his phone and opens their conversation a ton of times during the night, he never sends him a message.

At least, not until he deems it time to sneak out.

 _Leaving now, will be right there._ He contemplates signing the message with an x the way he usually does, but after knowing what it felt like to have Harry’s lips on his skin it feels too intimate all of a sudden. Not that Louis would particularly mind kissing him, but Harry isn’t _actually_ his boyfriend, and they’re probably about to ‘break up’ if not completely sever ties, so Louis really shouldn’t be entertaining those kinds of thoughts. 

He manages to get out of the hotel unseen, his heart hammering loudly in his chest as he makes his way onto the beach. Despite the fact that it’s light out there aren’t any people here, as the beach bar is already closed and most people are at the bar on the complex instead. It’s a relief, because Louis really doesn’t need any witnesses to his impending humiliation.

Too nervous to sit down he paces the waterline, his shoes somewhere in the sand so water can lap at his ankles. He’s got his phone in his hand despite (or maybe because of) the fact that Harry hasn’t texted him back, and for one awful moment, when he notices the time, he thinks he’s been stood up. 

And then Harry jogs towards him, looking flustered and beautiful and Louis sort of wants to die with how much he likes him. He’s always known that Harry meant the world to him, but it wasn’t until they met in person that he realised just how much he liked him. 

“Hi,” is all he manages, and it comes out a little squeaky.

“Hey Lou.” 

The fact that he calls him Lou makes Louis feel like it’s a little easier to breathe. Because if he still calls him Lou, it can’t be that bad, can it? Louis manages a feeble smile, one that Harry returns, suddenly a little shy too when they’re face to face and alone. 

They’re quiet for a minute or two, pacing the waterline together, and then air rushes out of Louis’ lungs, and with it, words. “How fucking weird is it to finally meet after all this time.” He says, because it’s not like it hadn’t hit him this morning but it _hadn’t_ , not really, it hadn’t sunk in. Harry’s real, Harry’s _here_ , and if the circumstances were any different Louis would be hugging him and not letting go for the longest time. “I’ve thought about what it would be like to meet you, so many times.”

Harry hums in a way that doesn’t give too much away, but Louis doesn’t dare to glance at him, too nervous that if he does, Harry can read everything in his eyes. So he stays quiet, swallows down the apology that comes bubbling up. “Me too,” Harry says eventually. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis can tell that there’s a small frown on his face. “I don’t know why it took us this long. Or,” he pauses. “Well, I guess I do.”

This makes Louis look at him. “You do?” He wonders what reason Harry possibly thinks Louis could have to have avoided meeting him all this time. Not that Louis had really avoided it. He just had never brought it up, and neither had Harry.

“I don’t know about you,” Harry starts, “but I was terrified. That once we met-”

“That things would change.” Louis finishes, quietly, and Harry nods. 

“That we wouldn’t get along as well as we did online. That it’d be awkward, and things would never be the same again, and we’d end up drifting apart.”

Louis smiles a wry smile. “I guess I managed that, huh?”

He doesn’t want to look at Harry, but when Harry takes his hand, he can’t help it, raises his eyes up to meet Harry’s. He’s surprised to see a hint of tears in his eyes. “Is that what you want?” Harry asks, and it’s so so quiet that Louis feels his heart ache. 

“No,” he says, and it comes out a little too intense, but Harry doesn’t recoil, just glances down at the sand. Louis squeezes his hand, uses his free hand to gently coax Harry into looking up. “Not at all. I would - I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I was terrified, that you wouldn’t show up tonight, or that you’d say you never wanted to talk to me again after what happened. I just meant - well, this afternoon was definitely in my top ten of awkward and humiliating things.” He knows he’s blushing, but he doesn’t feel too scared to tell him anymore now. Not when Harry almost cried at the thought of losing him. 

“It was not how I’d imagined our first meeting to go,” Harry agrees, and Louis makes a face at him. 

“You can be mad at me, you know.” He says. “For putting you in this position. I never should’ve asked you to play along in the first place. That was uncalled for.”

Harry hums, much like he’d done this afternoon. “I figured you must’ve had a reason,” is all he says, and Louis knows that this is the moment that he explains, but he stays quiet at first, because the thing is, it doesn’t feel like he has a good reason. Unless he tells Harry that he just really liked the thought of Harry being his boyfriend, which is not something he wants to share if he has any chance of salvaging their friendship. 

“I’ve never told anyone about you,” he says eventually. He doesn’t look at Harry, just starts walking again, expecting Harry’s hand to slip out of his but it doesn’t, he just matches his strides with Louis’. “Not because - I just liked that you were mine, I guess. I don’t, there’s been so many times in my life where things haven’t worked out. Where things that brought me joy were taken away from me, and I know that sounds stupid, but, I figured, if no one knew about you then no one could interfere with what we had, and I wouldn’t end up losing you.” It sounds pathetic when he says it, but Harry just squeezes his hand, as though he can read Louis’ mind and wants to tell him not to think such things about himself. “A couple weeks ago, I was home from uni for a bit, and Phoebe saw that picture you sent me, and she asked me about you. I told her we met in uni, but obviously she could tell I wasn’t telling her the whole truth. So she assumed-” he stops walking, turns to face Harry. “I should’ve corrected her. Obviously. There’s no good reason why I didn’t. Except that, y’know, like I said in the caves. She seemed so happy. And I figured, since she wasn’t meeting you anytime soon - or so I thought - why take that away from her? She’s had a tough time lately, I just wanted to see her happy for a bit.” He bites his lip. “And, well, it was nice, having someone know about you, having someone know that you’re in my life and you mean a lot to me. Even if it’s not exactly the way she thought it was.” Which she wouldn’t have understood, because they were all taught better than to meet people online, let alone share half your life with a complete stranger whom you’ve never seen in person. “But I’ll tell her,” he tacks on, softer. “The whole family probably knows about you, by now, so I’ll tell them tomorrow at breakfast.” 

“Don’t.” Harry says quietly. Louis just blinks at him. “I mean, what are you going to say? That it was all a lie? How will you explain why we came up with this whole backstory on the bus?”

Louis bites his lip. “I don’t know. Honestly, they’ll probably think I’m lying and that you broke up with me or whatever, but that’s not your problem. I never should’ve dragged you into this.” 

Harry shrugs. “I could’ve said something, instead of going along with it.” Louis doesn’t tell him that he knows Harry’s too nice for that. “But seriously, don’t.”

“Why not?”

This time it’s Harry’s turn to blush. “I mean, your sister’s happy. Your grandpa seemed happy too, that you were dating someone. But mostly, honestly, if you tell them we’ve broken up, I’m not gonna be able to hang out with you. And we’re both here, for the next couple of days, and - I don’t know. I’d kinda like to spend some time with you?” He says it all tentatively, like he’s afraid Louis wouldn’t want that, like he thinks he’s inconveniencing him when this would all be so much easier. They can ‘break up’ later, and Louis will get to spend his time on Mallorca with his best friend. It’s not a hard sell. 

“Me too,” he says softly. “I’d really like that, Harry.” But. “But-” If they didn’t come clean, that would mean-

“I don’t mind pretending that we’re a couple.” Harry hurries to say, and now they’re both blushing. “I mean. We’ve already said that it’s new. They’re probably not going to think anything of it that we’re not constantly snogging in front of them. They’d probably figure we were being respectful. And, I like this. Talking to you, holding hands. I’m a pretty tactile person, which you’ve probably noticed by now.”

Louis tries not to feel too disappointed, that Harry holding his hand apparently doesn’t mean anything. “But what about your friends? You’re here on holiday with them. Won’t they mind if you’re ditching them to spend time with me?”

Harry shrugs at that. “Honestly, all they want to do is get drunk and get laid. It’s not that I mind drinking, but, I didn’t come here to waste away my entire holiday. I want to _do_ stuff. Sightsee, have a conversation that isn’t about where the cheapest beer is or how short some girl’s skirt is.”

“I’m babysitting half the time though.” Louis counters quietly, but Harry just grins.

“I love babies.”

*

It’s so nice that he can text Harry again, when he’s in his hotel room. That he doesn’t have to worry about what happened between them or what Harry’s thinking about him. It’s normal for him, to spend half of his day glued to his phone, conversations going from serious to just sharing memes or cat pictures. But this time, this time Louis knows that Harry is actually within reach. That he’s just a few miles away, and they’ve met, and all that worry that Louis felt that Harry wouldn’t actually like him once he met him has drained away. 

He’s not sure Harry won’t regret playing along with Louis’ dumb lie, but the fact that he’s willing to makes Louis think that their friendship can withstand pretty much anything. It’s a comforting thought, that he’ll have Harry in his life no matter what.

And he gets to see him again, tomorrow, because they’ve agreed that Harry will come out to the beach with them, get to know the rest of his family. At least, that’s the plan, Louis is still going to have to ask his grandparents if it’s alright, but he doubts they’ll say no to the offer of a pair of extra hands and eyes to keep the tiny twins in line. 

Louis falls asleep to the thought of Harry with babies, and if he ends up dreaming about Harry with a baby of his own (maybe even _their_ own) then no one has to know.

*

 _Of course_ , his grandmother says, Harry is welcome to join them. She gives Louis a look that holds the middle between excitement and a little disappointment (likely for not telling her he was dating someone), and Louis gives her his best puppy eyed look back, which just makes her roll her eyes and ruffle his hair. “Is he good to you?” she asks, and Louis bites his lip, blushes as he nods. Harry is. He’s always been kind, sweeter than Louis probably deserves. He gives a lot of chances and he doesn’t mind when Louis teases him, where other people might sometimes take insult in the way he playfully taunts them. He’s been there whenever Louis needed him, lending an ear and a metaphorical shoulder to cry on. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without him,” he says honestly, and his grandmother smiles. There’s a vague hint of worry in her eyes that Louis knows is because she thinks they’ve only just met, but he doesn’t want to tell her that that isn’t true right now. Maybe later, once she’s met Harry and has become utterly smitten with him. Maybe then he can tell her that they’d met online, and she wouldn’t disapprove too much. 

Once they’ve all had breakfast (and once Louis has texted Harry to confirm their plans), they pack up their bags and head out to the beach, settling down on a couple of lounge chairs under an umbrella. There’s a flurry of _hold on let me put sunscreen on you first_ that threatens to turn into tears, but between Louis, his grandparents and his sisters, the twins are covered in sunscreen soon enough, hats and t-shirts on to protect them from the sun while they play in the sand. Louis takes off his own clothes, ready to lie down and soak up the sun (after the mandatory sunscreen of course, he’s got an example to set after all), and spend a relaxing day at the beach. 

Harry hasn’t said what time he’d be coming down, so Louis tries not to be impatient, firmly tells himself not to keep checking left and right. He’ll show up when he wants to, he reminds himself, wondering if the butterflies in his stomach are nervousness or just excitement at getting to see him again. 

He actually manages to doze for a little bit, the sun on his back so warm and lovely, the sounds of the sea lapping at the shore soothing and drowning out the high pitched voices of his siblings. They’re just babbling, still nearby, and his family seems to have everything under control, so Louis feels comfortable closing his eyes, enjoying the brief reprieve. 

He comes to to a soft hand on his shoulder, gentle fingers squeezing his bicep. “Hi Lou,” it’s soft and low, almost breathed into his ear, and Louis hides a groan into his hands, shifts to look at - a very nearly naked Harry, who is wearing indecently short (and bright yellow) swimming trunks. 

“Christ.”

“No, it’s Harry.” Harry deadpans, and Louis takes off his cap and smacks Harry’s head with it. It earns him a laugh, white pearly teeth and _dimples_ , and Louis almost feels like he’s still asleep. 

“Hi.” He shifts, to sit up, can’t resist looking at Harry, at the muscles and the tattoos and the sheer amount of skin that almost makes him dizzy. He’d feel insecure next to him, but Harry’s still smiling at him, and he doesn’t seem to find Louis hideous to look at. Maybe that’s a lot to infer from a smile, and it’s not like Harry’s interested in him so it’s not like he’d _care_ what Louis would look like, but, Louis kind of wants Harry to be impressed. “I like your shorts.” He mumbles.

Harry’s dimple gets replaced by a soft blush, and Louis instinctively reaches out to brush his fingertips over his cheek, feeling the warmth underneath his touch. “Hi.” He says again. “I missed you.” It’s corny but it’s also true, and he’d usually feel embarrassed about saying it, but since they’re meant to pretend that they’re dating, he thinks he can get away with it.

“Me too,” Harry says in a voice that’s far too earnest, and Louis wants to bask in his gaze, his smile, but he doesn’t get to, because there’s about six other people immediately demanding Harry’s attention. Phoebe’s the one who introduces him to everyone, looking proud, as though she’s the one who invited him here, and as though Harry’s some sort of celebrity. She’s so charmed by him, but Louis can’t fault her for that, he is feeling rather smitten himself. 

It’s a matter of minutes before he’s wound everyone around his finger, his nan roping him into a conversation, and Louis knows that he should be pleased that they’ve approved of Harry, but he also feels weirdly protective of him, and possessive of his attention. He doesn’t go as far as to drag Harry away from the clutches of his family, but he does sit next to him and wrap an arm around his waist. He also presses a kiss to his cheek, one that has Harry blushing. He doesn’t do more than smile at Louis, but he does wrap his own arm around Louis’ shoulder, and while it should be uncomfortable to be pressed so close together when it’s such a warm day, Louis doesn’t ever want to move away. It’s too nice.

The whole day is like that. They tan, they play volleyball, Harry lets the older twins braid his hair and the younger twins crawl all over him, and Louis tries not to swoon because even in braids Harry looks stupendously attractive. His grandparents are charmed just as much as Louis is (though not in the same way), and Louis thinks that they would probably not be too mad if he told them the truth. But he doesn’t bring that up to Harry, not even when they’re alone, walking up and down the waterline with rapidly melting ice cream cones in their hand. 

They don’t lay it on too thick in front of their family, even if Harry had said that they could. It’s not that Louis feels awkward about it, but every time he presses close there’s this brief moment where Harry flushes, and Louis just doesn’t want to pressure him too much. The last thing he wants is for Harry to feel uncomfortable or taken advantage of. And since they’re only playing pretend, Louis doesn’t want to end up doing something he’d regret. If he kissed him (and he can’t lie, the thought’s been on his mind once or twice), he knows it’d mean something different to him than to Harry, and that wouldn’t feel fair to him. And Louis also isn’t too keen on breaking his own heart.

It’s a problem though. Because the longer he spends with Harry the more he realizes just how amazing he is. He’s sweet, gentle with the kids, funny and charming. It doesn’t help that he’s looking incredibly fit in those shorts, has tattoos that Louis knew of but that look a hell of a lot different in real life than on a phone screen. Louis has to admit, he’s sort of crushing on him. And he really wants to talk to someone about it, but he can’t, because the person he’d talk to about these things is Harry. And things are already tentative enough without Louis letting on just how much he cherishes those moments when they’re pressed together.

Having spent the whole day at the beach, they’re all feeling rosy and tired, and none of them are really in the mood to get dinner at the huge buffet in their hotel. It’s always crowded and despite the fact that they definitely weren’t the only ones at the beach it’s still as though they’ve been in a bubble, and none of them seem willing to break it. So when their grandmother suggests going out for dinner at one of the small restaurants, everyone is on board.

Louis turns towards Harry, absently reaches out to tuck a curl behind his ear, but Harry flushes and Louis stops himself, drops a hand on his knee instead, to give it a soft reassuring squeeze. “Harry?” He asks, nodding towards his grandmother. “You gonna come with us?”

Harry checks his phone, makes a face. “I promised my friends I’d meet them for dinner.”

“Oh.” Louis knows that he shouldn’t be disappointed, after all, they’re not on holiday together and he’s already spent an entire day with him, he really shouldn’t be selfish and want to continue hogging his attention. But he still sort of does. “I understand.” He smiles, because the last thing he wants is for Harry to feel bad about having other plans.

“Some other time maybe?” Harry offers, and before Louis can nod, his grandmother does.

“We’d love to have you over for dinner tomorrow, Harry, if you’re free?” She suggests, and Louis both love and hates how much Harry’s charmed his family. Because while he’d love to see him tomorrow, he’d also love to just have it be the two of them for dinner. Maybe they can go and get ice cream after though, just him and Harry. 

Harry smiles, looks at Louis more than he does at his grandmother. “I’d love to.”

*

Their next morning is spent going to the market, and after walking around for a bit and checking out the stalls, and seeing the longing looks Phoebe and Daisy give some of the jewelry, Louis buys his siblings necklaces and bracelets to remember this holiday by. 

(He also buys Harry something, when none of his family are looking)

The afternoon is spent by the pool, the weather a bit less today, but the entertainment provided by the hotel more than enough to keep them occupied. Louis shoots a few games of pool with a German boy about his age, and plays Monopoly with his grandfather and the older twins while his grandmother and Ernest and Doris are taking a nap. He tries to keep from worrying about the fact that Harry hasn’t texted him all day, but once he’s in his hotel room, trying to piece together an outfit, the thoughts come creeping in. 

Had Louis overstepped some boundary after all? Harry _had_ said that they could be affectionate, but he’d also been a little flustered whenever Louis had reached out to him. And that hug, when they said goodbye, had that lasted a little too long? Louis hadn’t thought it did, at the time, but he’d also felt the tension when they broke apart. At the time he’d thought that maybe it’d been because Harry was unsure if he should kiss him - that’s what couples did when they said goodbye, wasn’t it - but maybe it was something else entirely? Was that why he’d said no to going out to dinner with them? Or is all of this just in his head? 

_Louis: are we still on for dinner tonight?_

He eyes himself in the mirror, the blue button up a bit too formal for what is supposed to be a casual dinner but he likes how it brings out his eyes. And paired with some grey shorts and a pair of white vans, he looks relaxed but still like he made an effort. The shell bracelet he’d bought for Harry is burning a hole in his pocket, and his hair is doing that swoopy thing that Harry had once said he liked, but nothing about his reflection brings as much of a smile to his face as the appearance of Harry’s text message does.

_Harry: of course! I’ll meet you at the restaurant xo_

It’s stupid, but the little kiss and heart make Louis breathe easier.

*

Seeing Harry at the restaurant, Louis can’t help but smile. He’s dressed in something that’s so out of the ordinary for anyone but him, and Louis sort of just wants to run towards him and cling to him until he’s caught up on his daily Harry Styles intake. He doesn’t, of course, though he does head towards him and wrap him up in a big hug. “Hi,” he tells him softly. “You look amazing.” It’s just for him, but he can hear Phoebe giggle behind him, and when he pulls back Harry’s blushing. “I love the shirt.” It’s a blouse, really, white with black drops on it, and he’s paired it with some jeans that are so tight Louis can’t help but wonder if he’s even able to sit in them.

(He also wonders how on earth Harry’s going to get them off later tonight, and tries valiantly to keep his brain from continuing on down that path)

“Thank you. You look handsome as well,” Harry compliments, and Louis knows that it’s just for show but he’s willing to take it.

Dinner’s a lovely affair, it’s still quiet at the restaurant because they’re early, and the owners have some time to spare, chatting with them and advising them on the food. Louis is pressed up against Harry in a booth, and it’s instinct that has him resting a hand on Harry’s knee. “Hey,” he says quietly, remembering to remove his hand when Harry blushes. “I um, I was wondering what you’re doing later?”

Harry shrugs, plays with his napkin. “Nothing planned yet, why?”

“I was thinking, it’d be nice to just spend some time together?” Louis watches him bite on his bottom lip, averts his gaze before it can become creepy. “I don’t know. I’d be happy just to walk you back to your hotel, if you’ve got plans with your friends.” He shifts, feels the edge of a shell dig into his skin. “Oh, I also got you something. We went to the market this morning, so I got you a present. But I don’t want to give it to you in front of everyone.” He knows that maybe he should, that it made more sense to, because they were ‘boyfriends’ and buying him a present wasn’t as out of the ordinary as it was when they’re just friends, but this wasn’t about playing a part. This was just about making Harry smile.

“I’m probably going out tonight, but not for a while.” Harry bites his lip, as though he’s considering something. “You could come with, if you want?”

Louis isn’t sure why he seems so tentative in offering, wonders if maybe he is just doing it to be polite. “I promised I’d babysit, so my grandparents can go for a drink. They’re probably going to head to bed quite early, but, we’re doing this island tour tomorrow, so I probably shouldn’t be partying.” He says reluctantly. Tomorrow’s their last full day and he would’ve loved to spend it with Harry, but they’d booked the excursion the day they arrived and he knows better than to try and get out of it. And besides, he had been looking forward to discovering more of the island. He can see Harry anytime when they’re back home. Hopefully. 

“We could go for a bit of a walk after dinner, if your grandparents don’t need you to babysit right away?” Harry offers, and Louis nods eagerly. 

“I’d like that.”

*

They skip out on dessert, and Louis promises to be back at the hotel in an hour. There’s a round of goodbyes, hugs from both sets of twins and even a kiss on the cheek from Louis’ grandmother that has Harry smiling softly minutes after they’ve left the restaurant. Louis can’t look at him too much, out of fear that he’ll say something stupid like how he really doesn’t want tonight to end, and could they just keep doing this forever? 

He knows it’s stupid, Harry’s not going to want to pretend to be his boyfriend, not when there’s undoubtedly plenty of people that will want to be his actual boyfriend. Or at least hook up with him. 

The thought nearly stops him in his tracks, makes him frown. Harry’s going out tonight and Louis knows that they’re not actually a couple, but he still feels weird at the thought of Harry going on the pull tonight. It’s not like he’d ever forbid him from doing it, he’s got no illusion that he’s got any sort of claim on him, but it feels odd, especially since they’ve been pressed together all night, pretending to be a couple, and now that they’re alone Harry still seems content to hold his hand. 

“Hey,” Louis says, once they’ve made their way out onto the beach. “I’ve got you something.” It’s as good an excuse as any to untangle their fingers, and it gives him something to focus on that isn’t this confusion swirling around inside of him. “It’s not - I don’t know. We went to the market this morning and I just wanted to buy you something.”

He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, doesn’t want Harry to wonder why he bought him anything. “It’s not anything special, really. It just made me think of you.”

Harry arches an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m not special?”

Louis blinks, and Harry giggles. “You’re the one who said it.” He points out, and Louis makes a face. 

“You know that’s not what I meant. I just - don’t get your hopes up or anything. I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed.”

Harry’s eyes soften at that, and when Louis takes the bracelet out of his pocket he covers Louis’ hand with his own. “I’d never be,” he says softly, solemnly. “You got me a present. Whatever it is, it’s incredibly sweet and thoughtful and I’ll love it.”

Louis thinks that’s a lot to ask of a simple shell bracelet, but Harry’s expression doesn’t change when he offers him the bracelet. He just holds out his arm so Louis can tie it around his wrist. “I love it,” he declares, and Louis both wants to roll his eyes and kiss him a little.

“If I’d known we were doing gifts I’d have bought you something,” Harry says after a minute, and Louis scoffs.

“You’re already doing me this huge favor, you really don’t need to buy me anything.” He says, and with that, the thought of Harry going out tonight makes a reappearance. “Hey. When you go out tonight-” Harry looks up at him, through his lashes, and it physically hurts to even have to say this. “You know you can do what you want, right?”

Those long lashes blink.

“I mean. You know that this isn’t real, that we’re just pretending - I just, I don’t want you to feel like you have to pretend even when we’re not together. I mean, you probably weren’t going to,” Harry had probably told his mates that he was just doing Louis a favor, it wasn’t like he’d have explained his absence by lying to them like they were doing to Louis’ family. “But like. You can hook up with someone if you want to.”

Louis feels a bit stupid, explaining his thoughts to him, and he doesn’t blame Harry for the rather blank look he gives him. “Forget it. It’s stupid.” He tries to keep walking, but Harry stops him, his fingers gentle around his wrist. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, and his tone is gentle and his fingers are gentle but Louis’ soul still feels a little pained, when he continues. “It’s all just pretend. I know. Nothing’s _actually_ going on between us.”

“Right,” he mumbles. “That’s good, I mean, I’m glad we made that clear.”

Harry nods. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Louis echoes.

*

When his alarm goes off at 6 in the morning, Louis wonders why he is doing this to himself when he’s on holiday. But when the older twins knock on his door, and he lets them in, and they collapse onto his bed for a cuddle and excited giggles he knows exactly why he’s doing this. He loves his family, and even though he would’ve loved to spend a day with Harry, he isn’t here for him. He was never even meant to meet him here, and while he doesn’t regret it for a single second, he does wonder if things will ever go back to the way they used to be.

The thought that they might not is terrifying, and he’s glad for Daisy and Phoebe, cuddled into his side, for their smiles and the easy way they manage to cheer him up without even trying. 

Despite the fact that breakfast isn’t usually served before 8, the staff have put together plates of food for them, and they enjoy a quiet (as quiet as it can be with seven people, plus the few other families that are likely going on today’s excursion) breakfast. Louis feels his phone burning in his pocket, made sure to charge it the night before so he can text Harry - or at least have Harry be able to reach him - when he wants to. He sort of wants to, now, but it’s seven thirty and Harry had gone out the night before. He doesn’t want to risk waking him.

Just as when they went to the caves, they’re brought to the bus stop where a large tour bus will take them towards the first point of their island tour, the Tramuntana mountain area. They’ll visit a Monastery there, enjoy some beautiful scenery, before setting off on what is supposed to be the most spectacular road in Mallorca, built in 1929 and leading to La Calobra. Louis only knows this information because of the brochure in his hand, and while he usually wouldn’t take much of an interest in the specifics of the trip ahead (preferring to just go into it without expectations and be surprised), since it’s 8:25 in the morning and he’s not feeling entirely awake yet, it’s a nice way to be left alone without coming across as antisocial. 

As such, he’s surprised when an arm suddenly snakes around his waist, and a kiss is pressed to his temple. In hindsight, Phoebe’s sudden delighted giggle probably should have tipped him off, but he’d been a bit slow in putting two and two together. 

“Harry?” He glances up, at a tired but gorgeous looking Harry, who looks at once pleased and sheepish at having managed to surprise him. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Louis answers automatically, then frowns. “What are you doing here?” 

“It seems fate has decided we should spend the day together,” Harry answers happily. “Apparently we’ve booked the same tour yet again. What are the odds?”

Pretty good, Louis would say, since Mallorca isn’t that big of an island and it’s likely that most organisations collaborate so there aren’t thirty tour buses from the same area all doing the exact same tour. Instead he says “Huh.” 

Harry watches the look on his face and frowns slightly, as he makes a move to pull away. “I don’t have to spend the day with you,” he says softly, just for Louis to hear. “If you’d rather be with your family. I know that we - I’m sure they’d understand. You did come here to spend time with them, after all.”

Louis feels a bit guilty, for multiple reasons. First there’s the fact that he hadn’t really been thinking about his family at all. And then there’s the fact that he’s apparently made Harry feel unwelcome, when his charged phone battery screams just how much he wants to be able to talk to him. “Don’t be daft,” he tells him, keeping him from moving too far away by pulling him back in by his waist, “They adore you.” _Though not as much as I do_ , he doesn’t say. 

“And you?” Harry still doesn’t seem convinced.

“You know I love you.” It’s honest, and Harry can take that as he wants. If he thinks Louis is just saying it to continue their charade, or if he thinks Louis means it the way that he’s always done, as love between two friends, Louis is happy to leave the interpretation up to him. 

Harry blushes, and Louis almost can’t resist pinching his face. “Alright,” he says, and it’s so soft and fond that Louis feels honest to God butterflies in his stomach. “I’ll hang out with you then. But if at any point you-”

Louis knows what he’s going to say, and he pretty much scoffs. “Not gonna happen.” Spending another day with Harry was exactly what he didn’t think he’d be able to do, and despite the fact that things had seemed awkward between them last night, it’s still all that he wants.

“Lou, I’m serious.” Harry says quietly. “If you-”

Louis shakes his head. “Not gonna happen.”

Thankfully (though not surprisingly), Louis’ family welcomes Harry as one of their own, and once the large tour bus arrives the eight of them find seats near each other. Louis, of course, is sat next to Harry, with little Ernest on his lap. On the opposite side of the aisle sit Daisy and Phoebe, who are entertaining little Doris, giving their grandparents some time to relax and enjoy the scenery. They’ve both got cameras with them, and so does Harry, so Louis grants him the window seat. Harry doesn’t seem too invested in the scenery just yet though - they’re driving past a part of Mallorca they’ve seen on their first tour, though Louis remembers being too busy answering and dodging questions at that point to really pay attention either - instead he is clearly fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Early morning huh?” Louis teases, when Harry’s eyes droop yet another time. Harry blinks them open, pouts the most adorable pout Louis has ever seen, and he has six siblings. 

“Late night,” he tells him, his voice coming out a little bit hoarse, the way it does when people are sleepy. It’s a natural occurrence but it still stirs up something in Louis’ stomach. He sort of wants to tuck Harry against his side and let him sleep for a while. Or maybe find a bed somewhere and cuddle. But as much as he’s sure their friendship is that kind of friendship, he doesn’t want to do that when they’re just friends. And he also doesn’t want to do that when they’re just pretending to date.

Harry’s eyes slip closed again, and Louis swallows. He’s going to have to tell him, sooner rather than later.

*

Louis gently wakes Harry - who has ended up with his head pillowed on Louis’ shoulder entirely by accident - when they’re about to head into the Tramuntana mountain area, because he knows that as much as Harry will grump at him for being woken up, he wouldn’t want to miss what are some truly spectacular views.

He gets to enjoy a truly spectacular view of his own, in the form of Harry excitedly pointing out things and trying to take pictures from the tour bus, most of which unsurprisingly come out pretty crappy. Before long they’re stopping for a break though, and while Louis carries Ernie off the bus, Harry darts outside to snap far more than a few shots. 

It makes him smile, the way Harry’s eager to capture all of this on camera, even when he sees his grandparents doing the same thing. He’ll have to tease him about that later, he thinks, though the thought is soon forgotten when his grandmother directs him and Harry to stand together, the water and mountains behind them, and demands a picture.

Louis’ arm obediently finds its way around Harry’s middle, while Harry’s lands comfortably around his shoulder. They grin into the camera, and Louis’ grin only wavers slightly when she cheekily tells him it’s alright if they want to kiss, isn’t that what the kids are doing these days, showing off their relationship? She understands, she says, that it’s a different time, and really, they make a beautiful couple and it’ll make for a gorgeous picture. 

He looks up at Harry rather helplessly, only to find Harry blushing, his eyes lingering on Louis’ lips. He looks flustered, and uncomfortable, and Louis finds himself shaking his head even when there’s a part of him that screams _yes_ at the thought of kissing Harry. “That’s alright nan,” he tells her, gently squeezing Harry’s waist to reassure him that it’s alright that he doesn’t want to kiss, they don’t have to take their fake relationship to that level. “Might be a bit embarrassing, seeing how gone I am for him on camera.” 

He ignores Phoebe’s gleeful _that’s pretty obvious even when you’re not kissing_.

They’re herded onto the bus again soon enough, but Louis still manages a moment to steal Harry away, his hand around Harry’s wrist, thumb brushing over bone. “Are you okay?” He says quietly, continuing when he sees his confused expression. “With what happened? Her pressing us to kiss? You know that we don’t have to, right? I don’t want-”

Harry’s frown turns into a brief smile, though Louis can’t shake the feeling that he’s not entirely sincere in his expression. His words seem genuine enough though. “Yeah, no, thanks. I don’t mind playing the part, but, a kiss might be a bit..much.”

“Yeah,” Louis says quietly. “I wouldn’t want you to have to feel like you have to kiss me. You should - you should only kiss someone when you’re actually into them. We both should.” He feels like such a fraud, saying it, because he _is_ into Harry and he _does_ want to kiss him, but he is adamant to make Harry understand he’s not going to ask that from him. 

Harry nods. “I plan to.”

*

Thankfully, no one in his family pressures Louis or Harry for any additional intimacy for the rest of the excursion, and they actually get to enjoy the beautiful scenery of Mallorca. After visiting the monastery and driving down the (admittedly, actually impressive) road to La Calobra, they get just under an hour to themselves to enjoy the beauty of the place, before the next part of their trip will start. 

There is a gorgeous beach, a fifteen minute walk through a gorge, that is supposed to provide some incredible scenery. Louis knows that his grandparents aren’t going to want to have to hurry, so he expects them to want to stay put. They do, but he can tell that Harry actually really wants to go to the beach, as the scenery, as well as the walk there, is supposed to be incredible. He can also tell that he doesn’t want to go alone.

“You should go, if you want to,” he says softly, and Harry bites his lip. “Not that - this is not me saying that we want some time together, just so you know. That’s still never gonna happen. But I can see that you really want to go. So you should.”

“Will you come with me?”

Louis hides a smile. “Do you want me to?”

Harry nods, and even if it’s just because he doesn’t want to go alone, Louis is eager to accept. So they set off on their own, away from the prying eyes of their family, with strict instructions to keep an eye on the time. Louis knows what that means, it means _don’t get caught up snogging each other and make us miss the boat_ , and he tries to ignore the part of him that wishes that was an actual possibility. But they don’t even hold hands this time, and while Louis knows that there’s no reason to play pretend when they’re on their own he can’t help but be reminded of how natural it had seemed for them to touch each other last night, when it was just the two of them on the beach. 

This time they just follow the other tourists, and Harry takes a few pictures, but mostly they enjoy the walk through the tunnels, the beautiful scenery of the canyon. They don’t even talk much, but it’s still comfortable, and that eases some of the pressure in Louis’ chest.

“You’re headed home tomorrow, aren’t you?” Harry asks, but as he does it he turns a corner and they come face to face with Cala de Sa Calobra, a place so beautiful that both of them gasp a little. Despite the fact that there are a bunch of other people here, it still feels private, a hidden gem that they feel privileged to see. The topic is forgotten for a few minutes, as they take pictures and wave at the boats passing by, and it’s not until they’re dipping their feet in the sea (or ocean? Louis isn’t sure) that he finally remembers to answer. “Yeah, unfortunately,” he really has been enjoying this trip, in part due to the boy next to him but also because it’s been really nice to reconnect with his family. “I plan to come home more often, next year. I just got so swept up in my first year of uni, but being here, with them, it made me realize how much I miss them when I’m not home.” 

Harry nods. “I’m sort of worried about that myself, when I’m headed off on my own next year.” 

“Have you decided where you’re headed yet?” Harry still had a year of A-levels to go, before he went off to uni, but it was never too early to start thinking about the future. There’s a part of Louis that hopes Harry will consider something nearby, as he really would like to see him in person more often, and he’s only got so much free time. Dividing it between his family (both the ones living in Doncaster and London) and Harry is going to be a challenge. But then, he doesn’t know if Harry even wants to spend time with him after this. He’s hopeful though.

“Not really. I’ve looked into a few places, but. I’m not set on anything yet.”

Louis nods, smiles up at him. “Well, if you ever need a tour of campus at my uni, you only have to ask.”

Something happens on Harry’s face that Louis can’t quite decipher, not until he asks “You mean that? You want to spend time with me after this?”

He’d call him an idiot, but that would make him a hypocrite, as he’s been just as uncertain as Harry sounds right now. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I’d really like that. I was so scared to meet you, but ever since we did, it’s like, we’ve only gotten closer. It feels like I’ve known you forever.”

“You have.”

Louis makes a face. “You know what I mean though. I feel comfortable with you. Not even the pretend dating is too weird. I mean, I thought it’d be weirder, for sure. But you, you’re a good actor, Harry.”

Harry smiles a little. “Not half as good as you.” 

Louis wants to tell him that it isn’t true, that he’s a rubbish actor because he’s actually been starting to develop a pretty intense crush on him, knows that right now is the perfect time for it, if he can just muster up the courage. But just as he parts his lips to do so, Harry glances at his phone, summarizes all Louis’ internal turmoil with a breathed out “Shit.” He holds up the phone to Louis then, and Louis’ brain slowly registers the time.

“Fuck.”

*

They hurry back towards the small harbour where the boat is already waiting, making it with only a few minutes to spare. Louis spends much of the first few minutes on the boat catching his breath, and another few minutes being scolded by his grandmother. He takes it in stride though, as does Harry, who doesn’t escape a scolding either. He sort of wants to tell his nan to back off, but Harry doesn’t seem too bothered by it, if the slight tug at the corner of his lip is any indication. He looks at Louis as if to say _grandmothers, eh?_ and Louis just smiles back. 

With the scolding coming to a clear end when Louis’ grandmother offers them both a sandwich, they settle in for a 40 minute trip along the west coast towards Puerto Soller. Louis loves boats, and being on the water, and with his family and Harry by his side, he thinks this is probably what true happiness is like.

Forty minutes really isn’t a lot, but Louis can’t be too upset, not when Puerto Soller turns out to be a charming and relatively traditional place. They have a short break there, to buy something to drink or, in Louis’ family’s case, change some nappies. The tiny twins are in good spirits though, especially when Harry insists on buying them popsicles (of course, only once he’s had the go ahead from Louis’ nan). They’re a sticky, happy mess, herded onto the tram that is cramped enough that Louis can feel Harry’s leg pressed up to him from thigh to slightly knobby knee.

It’s because it’s so crowded that Harry wraps an arm around his waist, and Louis feels no shame in resting against him.

The last part of their day trip is by train, and Louis can feel the after effects of spending a day on the move. He feels pleasantly sore and tired, the sun and heat and beautiful sights all leaving an impression, making him feel mellow and content, stretched out in his seat. He’s got his eyes closed, the sunlight caressing his skin, Harry next to him. “You look like a content housecat,” Harry teases, the words almost breathed into Louis’ ear, as though he’s afraid that speaking any louder will upset this wonderful moment. “Do you purr when you get stroked?” 

Louis slowly moves to look at him, arches an eyebrow because he’s not sure Harry even meant that in any sort of less than innocent way, but it still sounds cheeky. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Harry’s a really good actor, because Louis can swear that for a moment he looks as though he’s about to nod.

*

The train brings them all the way back to the outskirts of Palma, from where they take the bus back to their resort. The closer they get to Palma, the more Louis can feel a lump in his throat, his heartbeat at once slow and sluggish and too fast when he thinks of how every second that ticks by is one step closer to having to say goodbye to Harry.

He knows it’s ridiculous to even think this way. They’ve both made it pretty clear that they want to see each other after this, and he’s known Harry for ages, has spent four years getting to know him solely through the phone. He shouldn’t feel like he’s losing something now that he’s finally seen him in person, because it’s just giving them new opportunities. But as much as he tries to convince himself of that, he still feels sad at the thought of having to say goodbye. 

But it’s their last night here, and he wants to spend it with his family. Getting to spend the day with Harry had already been a happy surprise, he’d really only expected to get to see him for a couple of minutes today, to get a chance to say goodbye in person before he headed home. He doesn’t want to skip out on a last family night, so once they arrive in Son Reus, where the buses are already waiting, he reluctantly gears up to say goodbye.

He’s a coward, he knows, for not taking Harry aside and telling him about the way he feels for him, but they only have a few minutes and this is a conversation that he fears will take quite a bit more time than that. For one, he doesn’t even know how he’s going to tell him, and for another, he knows they’ll have to navigate from that confession into a new way of being friends. And as much as Louis knows things will already change because they’ve met, and that that isn’t the end of the world, he’s not quite ready to face the reality where Harry will (undoubtedly gently) let him down.

So instead of even attempting to bring any of it up, he just walks Harry to his bus, feels his heart sink with every step. 

“I guess this is it,” he says softly, and Harry bites his lip and just nods. Louis looks up at him, but Harry won’t meet his eyes, and for a moment he’s terrified until he hears a soft sniff. He automatically reaches out then, rests a hand against his cheek and makes him look at him. The gentle pressure on his cheek causes Harry to let out a soft, embarrassed sounding whine, but he finally meets Louis’ eyes. 

There’s tears in them, and Louis’ heart _hurts_. “Oh,” he says quietly, and Harry gives him a wobbly smile. 

“Sorry.” He whispers. “I’m a bit of a-”

Louis shakes his head. “No. Oh no, love, that’s- I’ve been trying to hold back tears all the way back from Soller.” He shrugs sheepishly. “This week has been- I don’t even have words. All this time, I’ve been so scared to meet you, thinking that when we did, it wasn’t going to live up to my expectation, but-”

“It’s better,” Harry says softly, and Louis nods, feels his heart jack rabbit in his chest because he’d _known_ Harry didn’t hate him but hearing that he feels the same way Louis does - at least about some things - still makes him happy beyond belief. 

“Yeah.” He manages a real smile then. “I can’t wait to see you again. Now that we’ve met - we’ll hang out, yeah? Do all those things that other friends do. My room’s tiny, on campus, but you’re welcome to come and watch movies anytime. You know that, right?”

Harry’s eyes are still a bit watery but there’s a smile on his face now too. “I’d like that. I’ll call you soon as I’m home, yeah?” He bites his lip. “I’ll probably text you long before that, too.”

Louis’ heart feels like it’s about to burst. “You better,” he says, and leans in, wrapping his arms around Harry for a hug. “Thanks for everything. Not just these past couple of days, but - thank you. For being you. For being the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I really kind of love you a lot, you know?”

Harry holds him so sweetly, Louis closes his eyes and wants to just stay in his embrace forever. His fingers press in just right at the dip in his spine, and even if his hair sort of tickles against Louis’ nose, it’s still pretty bloody perfect. At least, until Harry chuckles. “Your nan’s coming over. I think your bus is about to leave.” He pulls away just enough to see that most of the people have already filed onto his own bus as well. “Mine too.”

Louis watches him blush a little bit, resists the urge to reach out and wrap him up in another hug, knowing that if his grandmother is coming over she means business. “See you soon, Harry.” He watches him, the lovely smile on his face. “Get some sleep.”

Harry chuckles, toys with the bracelet that Louis had given him the night before - and it’s not like Louis hadn’t noticed him wearing it before, but it still manages to thrill him, seeing it on his tanned wrist - taking a step back only to take a step closer right after. It’s quick, the way his hand lands on his waist and his lips land on Louis’, too quick and too full on to be an accident. It’s even quicker, the way he pulls back and waves before disappearing inside of the bus.

Louis stands there and blinks, and still hasn’t fully processed what just happened by the time his nan grabs his wrist and drags him towards their own bus.

*

After a quiet dinner, Louis heads up to his room to pack up his belongings, as always marveling at the amount of mess he’s managed to make in a week. He doesn’t know how he’s going to fit everything in his suitcase, and even when he knows he’ll regret it when he comes home, he ends up throwing things in haphazardly, not bothering to separate or fold even his clean clothes. Maybe he can get his nan to do the washing, as long as he promises to help her hang it up. 

The mundane chore of packing doesn’t really occupy his mind though, and he can’t help but wonder what it had meant - if anything - that Harry had kissed him upon leaving. His grandmother had been coming over, so had it just been for show? But then, he’d said earlier on that he only planned on kissing someone if he was actually into them. So did that mean he actually had feelings for Louis? 

His phone remains frustratingly silent, no incoming texts from Harry, and Louis can’t help but wonder if that too means anything. Did he regret it? Was he worried that Louis was mad? Did any of this mean anything? And even if it did, was it just the high of a holiday and a first meeting? Would any of it still exist once they were back in the UK? 

He’s almost grateful for the fact that they’re leaving at seven the following morning, because it means that once he’s packed he’s already missing out on his eight hours, and he can escape his nagging thoughts by simply closing his eyes and falling asleep.

Falling asleep doesn’t come easy though, and he spends a good half hour tossing and turning before he caves, grabs his phone to text Harry. After all, he reasons, if Harry thinks he’s mad it’s the right thing to do, because he doesn’t want him fretting about a teeny, tiny, barely existent (amazing, wonderful, all-encompassing) kiss. 

_Louis: packed up all my stuff. I swear my clothes have multiplied, I could barely fit them in my suitcase. How does this always happen? Must investigate!!_

He knows it’s silly, but it’s the kind of thing that usually makes Harry laugh. He knows he shouldn’t wait for a response, but he still does, until his eyes grow heavy and he falls asleep with his phone still in his hand.

*

At some point in the middle of the night, his phone has ended up right under his ear, so when the alarm goes off at five in the morning he nearly falls out of the bed, curses so loudly he thinks he might’ve woken up some of the nearby guests. His ear is ringing and he’s quick to put his phone back on silent - really only having turned the sound on for the alarm, and because he didn’t want to miss a text from Harry - before grudgingly forcing himself into the bathroom for a quick, refreshing shower.

It’s only after that he allows himself a look at his phone, to find a message from Harry. It’s a picture, a selfie taken the night before, obviously in a club somewhere. Harry is looking sweaty and tired and amazing, even when he’s pouting into the camera. The message simply reads: _miss you already_. 

It was sent at 3:24 AM and Louis knows better than to call or even text Harry right now, because he’s probably just fallen asleep, so instead he posts a quote on Tumblr and tags Harry in it.

_“There’s not a word yet for old friends who’ve just met.”_

He pockets his phone then, goes to his siblings’ room and helps them pack up the last of their stuff, before taking their suitcases downstairs to the lobby, where they will be put behind the reception desk as they enjoy their last breakfast. 

The early hour means that he isn’t too hungry, but he enjoys a cup of tea and some fruit, the smiles on his sisters’ faces that tells him they’ve thoroughly enjoyed this holiday. He only needs to exchange a look with his grandmother to know that they’ll be back next year, if not to Mallorca then at least they’ll find another place to holiday, all of them together. 

It’s a short drive from the hotel to the airport, where their flight is departing at ten thirty. Once they’ve checked in and made it to the gate, Louis grabs his phone to put in some headphones and listen to some music.

He unlocks his phone to find a message from Harry. Sent just a few minutes after he’d posted it, it’s a link to Louis’ Tumblr post, and

_Harry: Meeting you was fate_

_Harry: becoming your friend was a choice._

_Harry: (the best one I’ve ever made)_

_Harry: have a safe flight_

It’s sappy, and so incredibly Harry that it takes Louis a moment to realize it’s a quote. It takes him another moment to realize just how the quote ends, and when he does, his heart is racing so badly he feels entirely out of breath. _It doesn’t mean anything_ , he tells himself, it doesn’t mean anything that Harry picked this quote or if it does, it means _everything_ that he didn’t complete it. That he chose to omit those final words.

Those words that Louis shakily types out to Harry. He doesn’t think about it, about what it means, about how Harry will respond when he reads it, what this will do to their friendship. He just types them out and sends them, watches himself do it as though he’s not at all responsible for his actions, can only watch from the sidelines as he gears up for potential disaster.

_Louis: but falling in love with you I had no control over._

It’s weird, how panic only belatedly sets in, once the two little check marks indicate that the message has been received. How only then Louis finds that he’s struggling to breathe, struggling to do anything except instinctively push down on the power button until his phone screen turns black. There’s a part of him that wants to switch his phone back on, that wants to delete the text - hopefully before Harry’s had a chance to read it - or that wants to explain it away, anything that will keep him from having to admit that yes, he did have feelings for him. 

But he doesn’t. Because Louis might be a coward, who didn’t have the guts to tell him in person, but he’s also a hopeful coward, bolstered by the fact that Harry kissed him last night and told him he already missed him. 

(He’s still really grateful for the fact that he’ll be on a near three hour plane ride and that no matter how badly he panics, he won’t be able to check for a reply until he’s back on English soil)

The flight is simultaneously the longest experience of Louis’ life, and also goes by far too quickly for his liking. He’s on pins and needles the entire time, not even able to distract himself with the inflight entertainment system, or the way Doris is on his lap, giggling away to a toddler show she’s watching on his grandmother’s tablet. He cards his fingers through her curls, tries not to think of how Harry’s had felt underneath his touch. Not even her smell - still so much like _baby_ , but with a hint of something sweet, like the applesauce she’d had earlier - can soothe him, and his stomach’s in knots by the time they get off the plane and have collected their luggage. 

Louis manages to leave his phone off until he’s in his grandparents’ house, where everything had begun, only a few short weeks ago. He’s on the same sofa, in the same spot, with a different cup of tea, wondering how everything had changed so fast when one could take a photograph of both days and be hard pressed to find the differences. 

His fingers shake when he switches on his phone, thumb so sweaty that it takes him two tries to unlock it. 

It takes a while for his phone to connect to the internet, and at first it looks like he hasn’t got any messages or notifications. But then the small t pops up at the top of his screen, and he finds that Harry has tagged him in two posts on Tumblr. He holds his breath as he clicks the little notification, sees that Harry has reblogged the full quote they’d sent to each other earlier, simply tagging Louis’ name in his reblog and adding _#knew this sounded familiar_. 

Louis isn’t sure what that means, especially when no text message from Harry comes in, so he clicks through his activity feed - hating how the Tumblr app glitches out on him and doesn’t immediately direct him towards the other post Harry had tagged him in - until he finds it.

“With a kiss, let us set out for an unknown world”

\-- Alfred de Musset

It’s an original post, and this time Harry hasn’t just tagged him in it, he’s also added a little heart emoji and some more tags.

_#i know i could’ve just texted you #but you were the one who brought this to Tumblr #and it’s oddly fitting #isn’t it #considering how we met. #i am so nervous right now #you’d laugh at me if you were here #but here goes #meeting you has been the most amazing thing #and i really hope that i’m not misinterpreting what you meant with that text #i’m terrified now more than ever #i don’t ever want to do anything to risk our friendship #and i felt so stupid for kissing you last night #but i really like you #i tried not to because you mean so much to me #but i obviously failed #and oh god everyone is going to see this #please don’t be mad #i really like you #i already said that #but i really do #i mean i even booked that island tour at the last minute just because i wanted to be near you on your last day #i wasn't ready to say goodbye #i'm still not #louis please go out with me #there i said it #can we stop fake dating and just date? #these tags are a mess #i feel so embarrassed #to delete #maybe_

The post already has over a hundred notes, most of them replies tagging Louis in it and demanding his reply. A few just commenting on how cute this was, while one or two seemed confused. Louis can’t really blame them. While they still followed each other on Tumblr and interacted there (Louis still has notifications on for Harry even though neither of them post as much on there as they used to), neither of them had really shared too much about their personal life on here in a long time. 

As much as he would enjoy letting his followers in on his feelings (and he can tell, by the _many_ notifications of asks he has, that a lot of them are curious), he doesn’t reply publicly. What he wants to tell Harry is just for him. Just for them, the way it started, back when Louis didn’t have to share Harry with anyone, not his followers, not his friends, not his family. He doesn’t regret what happened, but he’s more than ready to have it go back to the way things used to be. 

Well. With a few exceptions.

_Louis: Miss you too. Can’t wait for you to be back._

_Louis: we have a lot to talk about_

_Louis: how does dinner and a movie sound?_

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, please leave kudos/a comment, and if you want to, reblog the [fic post](https://so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed.tumblr.com/post/186092270433/under-the-moonlight-larry-15k-t-harry-and) and come say hi on Tumblr!


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